okay, so here's the thing.. @quarterlifekate - Tumblr Blog

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i am in right in the midst of a whirl of a 7 day stint at the hospital. where are you balance? where are you, jugular of the person who made this week's schedule. where the fuck is my lush bathbomb so i can enjoy .25 seconds of hippy-honey scented serenity? someday i will talk about something about life outside these four walls.

in an effort to keep the sanity: a list of happies about how it ain't SOoooo bad. that's cuter than whining, right?

lets start with the food. don't you know me by now? leftover bake sale treats for the leukemia/lymphoma walk tomorrow. patients' families who bear donuts that taste like clouds. fruit baskets. cookie baskets. gosh darn, the prestige of anything in a basket. thank you chocolates from europe. generous deliveries of coffee. ho-ly.. trying really hard to abandon the developing muffin top guest starring above mah scrubs. i just don't think it's worth it this week.

there is this elderly custodian who frequents our floor who speaks very little english, but has taken to kissing my cheek every morning in the elevator and always closes with, "good day little angel!" we hardly know each other - but it is a greeting that never fails to start my day on the right foot.

there are split seconds in each day, like today, where i wind up doubled over on the sofa of a patient's room with tear soaked eyes and my abs (jokes!) aching. like when the most DAINTY lady you'd ever meet breaks the most violent wind after dr, douchelord leaves and shouts "and that's what i think about him!" oh, the giggs we had.

these mornings that start out feeling impossible are turning into 8pm glory exits with my hands up in the ayer thinking "I JUST DID ALL THE THINGS." transfusions and tight hugs and sticking the frailest vein with success and advocating my ass off despite the fake stance of confidence that still lingers. sometimes all before i'd normally sip my coffee on a day off. i am learning such an enormous amount about cancer, medicine, humanity, and myself.

with all of that being said, i'd still like that 5am jingle to be adjourned just a bit!!

let me start out by saying hi, hello, i am a huge internet offender. can i please go back to the kiddie table for like, one second and have lumps of day to quick ventilate my dirty laundry to the aluminum bodied lappy i love so much?

let me catch you up to speed.. cut to the chase:

becoming a nurse in july was a true shock to my senses. in a beautiful, nail-biting, heartbreaking, stirring sort of way. even those descriptors will never quite sketch the insights and encounters i've gained in such a quick three months. most days are filled to the brim with joy and new things to learn. other days are filled with actual shit and vomit and tears.

for example, on wednesday i found myself crying my face off in the back pyxis while drawing up a vial of ativan. the irony of that setting was impeccable, flashing back. it was right before shift change. i didn't have my shit together that day. my patient had just died. my other patient with the peripheral IV site in his antecub could not go .25 minutes without beeping those same beeps i hear in my dreams now. dr. douchelord made me feel small for having good intentions, which i will never understand. i got chocolate custard heaved all over my pants and had to wear the OR ones which are essentially capri length and in fact more shapeless than regular scrubs. can you imagine anything worse than chocolate custard stained pants, though? a transfusion reaction to platelets in another room. the wife in room 7 ringing into my archaic, brick of a work phone asking me to set up the "soothing music channel" on the television - which seemed like the last of my priorities at the time but that i knew was a big one of hers. cue the running of hurdles that every professor and preceptor has alerted you of. cue the emotional collapse as your coworkers recite maxims of the "it's gonna get better.. promise" variety. even so, i thought those thoughts of never coming back.. of how i wasn't meant to carry the weight of all these responsibilities. i continued to cry at the front desk, finishing charting and things of the death-packet variety two hours past my shift. all i wanted was a bowl of mashed potatoes with cheese, some boob releasement, and an episode of "parenthood" on netflix to cry some more at other peoples' lives that aren't so perfect.

and just as wednesday felt insurmountable, thursday came much too soon with all of the delights that brought me to this profession in the first place. a tender conversation about the importance of living a good life with a toothless man (with the biggest grin) over morning meds. advocating for the right things and changing an outcome that could have gone much differently. watching the bald patches that used to be eyebrows turn up over wide, excited eyes at the news that a long-standing clear liquid diet got advanced to real people food. sneaking in a sugar cookie from the auxillary to seal the deal of it all. it is these responsibilities that are such a privilege. getting to walk away with 4-5 remarkable peoples' histories, stories, scars, and hopes - every single day. if i have to deal with the occasional lemon of a wednesday all to get to the glees of thursday.. i think i may just make it through.

on that note: i hope you are enjoying more breezes than bumps yourself [& i hope to write more frequently when i find an off day that doesn't require 20 hours of sleep!]

for the love of cotton/spandex blends and spacious crotch areas

i just spent an extortionate amount on pajamas and things of the comfy/give-up variety. my slothlife closet is gonna be so tight you guys.

in the same vein - on my day off yesterday i may have changed out of sweatpants and into my yogas to do an errand because they "looked nicer." my dad did not understand that rationale but i know tumblr does.

combo'ed by the fact that i am now living the greater half of my life in scrubs, i hereby accept all bets as to how many muffintops will transpire in the coming months of bein' FREE.

progress report

i am wildly relieved to be sitting here writing and winding down in natural progression after fighting off something fierce & continuing to fake it til i makes it through all the sunrise to sundown shifts.

i am also deeply hoping someday i'll look back at this post and be all "LOOK HOW WELL IT TURNED OUT FOR YOU GIRLFWAN" because right now there are some days where i retreat to the bathroom for about 45 seconds, pacing like a psychopath and wondering if i should wave the white flag and run away.. each time recovering with a mutter of "your tits, katie, calm them." i have always been my own worst critic. if i look into the mirror, she is certainly there.. but this is a fear of failing i have never felt before. not a fear of failing myself but of those in my hands for each 12+ hour increment. for some reason i thought that after four years of schooling/clinical, the time management would come deftly and each little protocol would stick to my brain matter like glue. i walk around in equal parts awe and envy of how effortless the more seasoned nurses look while fixing up a triple pump with more bags on it than those under my eyes. i soak in every learning opportunity but pray for the quiet moment i can regroup over a boat of fat-laden soup with my feet up in the lounge.

this week i passed validation with flying colors and can officially give meds unaided. what a relief, i thought, until the night terrors of giving 100mg of IV morphine started and the daily monologues of "will this stool softener kill mr. [redacted] began. batshit. i know this.

i am learning, with the guidance of many kind souls how to pilot this new responsibility. i am learning how to juggle assignments that leave me absolutely gutted in one room - a whole family saying goodbye as i tend to their grief while keeping up on pain meds... and immediately after stepping out: affix a smile, possibly some wit, definitely normalcy with a man who needs assistance walking the halls before a chemo treatment. i am learning that it doesn't feel human right now... but with an echoed assurance that it gets easier. for now i will find some hope in that (and an overfloweth glass of red).

dios mio. i am quickly learning that nurses hardly ever take lunch. finding the right moment is like needle in a haystack grade stuff. today the pangs and gurgles were so next level that i ripped open my tupperware container of chicken cutlet and ate it like a neanderthal from my hand on the commute home with 0% shame in who saw it.

it's also true that they hold their blads forever. there comes a point where all sensation is lost. seriously. until clock out. that is the time you remember you are in fact still holding onto that 24 oz water, medium iced coffee, and your legs are shakin like a bittie calf hot out of the mama cow. the final stage is being acquainted with pee that looks just like the patient's down the hall in straight renal failure. HEALTH.

salvaging this bodily neglect in the appropriate means.. which obviously translates to a gluttonous dinner out until i reach the feeling of owning my very own FUPA.

did i also mention they are used to overshare? you are used to that anyways.

these last two weeks have been a whirlwind and i am thankful to still have my feet planted firmly on the ground. i would be remiss not to say i have invoked a few biblical phrases.. damn near hailing prayers for my social life, but then again i would also be so wrong in not mentioning how gracious i am for this new start.

the first week of orientation was everything expected. toxic amounts of coffee swills to sustain the half assed head nods for presenters, claps for people who mentioned the word "handwashing" no less than 100 times (THE SUFFERING), and for business attire that was like.. turbo turrible. the sucking in and leg crossing and peep-toe blisters were dumb, and i couldn't be happier to have my standard fuck-it ponytail & saggy scrubs back.

this past week however, was for getting back on my floor. unhinging my locker (big 'dill), receiving the warmest welcome from familiar staff, and even familiar patients i had months prior. it was a week for brushing up my skill set - practicing what i love. and with all of the technicalities to store to memory.. the drip rates and flowsheets and protocols - the biggest thing i took away from this week was not the memorization which will come, but a single moment for one of my patients.

he's been here a long time and the doctors say the prognosis is very poor. even with this heavy knowledge, every interruption to sleep or law and order is greeted with the kindest regard. he tells me i'm a pro at blood transfusions.. probably because he saw me manifesting sizeable pit stains and internally invoking jesus christ to keep all reactions at bay. i also coaxed him to walk this week. his fragile hands gripped around the bends of a walker as i inched beside him with his crowded IV pole. we planned to pace the unit one time.. a feat most nurses make hundreds of each shift. we stopped four times to sit and catch some air, but he made the lap and felt so proud not having done that in months. as i helped him back into bed, he followed with a soft wish between labored breaths. i could sense the doubt behind each word... "i wish i could make a few steps outside sometime."

no less than 25 minutes later, i was in touch with one of the docs who said i could put this in as a nursing order.. to allow outside trips with assistance. 25 minutes later he was crying, muttering "june 3rd" and i didn't know what that meant. june 3rd was his last day outside. nearly two months, and the date of his last admission.

these days are both gut-wrenching and rewarding. worthwhile and a number of other positive adjectives amidst each sad truth, long day, and tussle to remember every tidbit of new information. the upswings, though.. the teary smile that responds to fresh air is just as important as a dosage calculation. they are hand in hand, and i am learning just that.

as for days off.. my aspirations and dreams have come to include netflix, snacks, leggings and a good snug from hunter who has been ever patient with me turning into an 80 year old woman. also checking my bank account a lot to see how not-poor i am anymore. whoever said money can't buy you happiness is a *expletive* idiot. when i don't have to rack my brain with serious math over choosing the gas tank or dill pickle chips from the vending machine, that is happy.

twas the night before my new job...

and a weekend filled with unrestrained booze, dancin in the bean & recovery grease were all accounted for. it was the cherry on top of my last (hefty) summer vacation. i write that last part as a hole continues to shred through my heart.

i know that the cyclic, never-ending wake ups surely coming my way will get old.. but tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life and these moments don't come around too often. the first day back where i'll once again feel like a productive, creative, valuable part of this beautiful yet unforgiving specialty. a day to begin the rebuild of all the atrophied brain matter i've lost in watching E! television. my anxieties are allayed with the excitement of reuniting with staff who i admire.. the ones i know will talk me off any ledge. those who will continue to make me want to be a better person. tomorrow. and i must only hope the anticipation and nerves and endless possibilities in "The Next Chapter" do not render the diphenhydramine in this pill completely useless.

all the indelible battles of uncertainty will meet wonder.. i just know it. i just need to keep remembering it. here goes nothin!

Thought a new pair of obnoxious runners would do the trick, but it still hasn't changed the monologue of "please god get me home/ running is so terrible/I am going to die out here."

after nearly a month of much needed absenteeism from the internet, and hunter's brazen crack last night that i probably lost all my followers.. i am back!

i've had so much fun this past month. SO much, you guys. lake days, beach days *adventures in getting skin cancer*, weddings, days spent on lawns with equal amounts drinking and playing, a trip to new mexico with my circus of a family which has almost too much crazy to begin documenting, and a lot of time to just do my thing. "my thing" which happens to be a mix rivaling homer simpson's laziness with the netflix two inches from my face, eating a lot of food, and working out. it's a good balance. trust in me.

all of the "THIS IS THE MONTH OF KATIE" thoughts were pretty all-consuming in early june. i was untouchable. no one could dull the shine of my newly graduated bliss. as it's been archived at many angles before, i am 23 but still have a hard time affiliating with adulthood. act 1 scene 5,000: 2 weeks before the NCLEX - dragging ass with the sad charlie brown theme playing behind me.. thoughts of what sadistic person dreamt up a system to let you snatch up a diploma that says "you did the damn thing" yet no you did not because the state board exams are immanent murder. more than 2,500 study questions later, it became test day right before my bleary four eyes.

yesterday, specifically.. at some shiny test center that made me feel like i was in the matrix. palm scans, finger prints, some dude with a classic combover and monotoned voice telling me to smile for the camera, take off my watch, hairtie, and god forbid take my soul beyond the scary test wing door. my exam was ridiculously difficult. much more so than i would have expected. if i can give any indication of my confidence level throughout.. i'll have you know i was dry heaving in the bathroom with an escort outside the door listening when i just couldn't handle what question 56 was throwing down. i now know that hell is a place on earth in a pearsonvue restroom.

i walked out with a pain in my gut, floundering for my phone to check the website for the "good pop up" that supposedly means ya passed. i got it.. and tomorrow i find out for sure. life is changing by the day, and this monday i start orientation for my dream job. when i started this blog i wasn't even in nursing school. i went from having no grand plan to unearthing a huge passion. it's all on here. i can look back to the time i paced outside my first patient's room so timid and anxious. i can look back to the time when someone changed my perspective hugely, in just one day. i can remind myself that struggles are episodic and never hang around forever. there is so much good and so much work and so much growth i've written about which is why i'm back. with dumb stories about how i just ate cookie butter out of the jar with a spoon because its still new to me and frankly, i don't know what to spread it on. about how running still sucks. or how i know nothing about new job and i feel like i'm gonna kill everyone. so that when i'm 88 and a hundred shades of crotchety, i can laugh and think "how simple".

(thanks for sticking around).

standard exchange

Dad: hey, stopping at dunkin do you want something?

Me: yeah please! medium hazelnut iced coffee with extra milk and two splenda. i also usually ask for a foam cup to keep it from sweating on me but i know you'd just DIE asking for all that.

Dad: should i also tell them "i need the milk to come from a cow aged at least 3 years. must have 34 spots and be raised in kentucky.."???

this week. so many red letter days. a weekend that my parents tirelessly pieced together: every detail with me in mind. bodies and chatter flooding the backyard and deck. ambling around with twelve too many mimosas for me, a mix of cooler beers for others. the rush of gratitude that prompted a whole host of tears while opening every generous card. a cake that looked like the most fabulous pink scrub top with nutella in the layers. NUTELLA IN THE LAYERS, YOU GUYS. everyone outdid themselves. everyone reminded me of how much love truly gets you through everything.

so here i am, and here i've been.. enjoying every bonfire with friends, any opportunity to fill my cup with something chilled, impromptu getaways with a fishing pole in tow, tossing off the sheets at shameless late morning hours - smiling, and just sitting in an afternoon breeze like today's out on the patio furniture writing thank-yous and brushing up on a little board questions. the work shifts have been minimal, per everyone's advice. on the days where i get a little stir crazy.. particularly the rainy ones, after a ballpark of 8 murder mystery shows.. i remind myself to enjoy - because for the next month and a half there is no agenda.. and i don't think that will ever come again in this life.

it's like, really hard to stay focused on studying for boards especially when i don't know when my test date is. MY PROBLEMS ARE NOT PROBLEMS. what i have been finding plenty of time to do in between perfecting couch dents, drying my contacts out watching murder shows, and exercising my lovehandle areas is reading plenty of trash magazines.

i get a stupid amount of joy trying to wrap my head around what people write for fun these days and today i came across one of those standard, recycled-every-four-months headline of "six things he wishes you'd do in bed"...

(excuse me, while i exhaust my lonely gif library)

thing #1: dirty talk

2. the occasional quickie

3. kiss another girl

4. engage in public action

5. compliment him

6. show how satisfied you are

ok. so clearly these lists are always made by and for man. i think it's time they publish a new list. i call it, 6 things we wish he'd do in bed.

1. while conscious, save any and all bodily sounds for the bathroom 2. don't hoard the covers (i get super passive aggressive over this and will squirrel away every inch i can when i get the chance) 3. the occasional breakfast in bed (hi hunt! you are my champion for this). 4. tell me a night time story like we were away at sleepover camp. 5. turn the alarm off after the third time, not 24th. 6. never underestimate the sexiness of clean, changed linen

well, that was cathartic

let's have a chat

this weather? it's what we pray for here in new england approximately 50% of the year. and then it finally comes, in all of it's humid, swamp-ass loving glory, all we can do is whatever on earth to ditch from it. this is all to vainly say that my hair is, no lie, matted to a degree that can only be described as "the lloyd" look from dumb and dumber. except longer, obviously. hot.

to flee the heat, i took cam to his neurology appointment and then to a 3D movie because he said my singing voice and dress were pretty. en route we decided to ride windows down! hands out! initially a really good idea, until a lady with nary a toothcount catapulted her body onto the front of my fully stopped vehicle in traffic screaming for help. i started to channel everything from lifetime's what should you do? show and locked my doors. i pulled up the windows and yelled back a medley of alarmed words to the effect of "WHAAHT DO YOU WANT FROM US CRAZY?" she wanted bus money. i had only a card. she then wanted a ride. and i recognized her struggle behind the now cool, air conditioned panes of my car windows. as much as i wanted to help, as much as i feel for this population.. when you begin hurling your body on a car with a four year old waving out the window.. and i start getting palpitations over both our safety.. IT IS THE WRONG METHOD.

onwards, and some stress body odor later (there is a difference). the movie was cute. really cute, once i got past the 3D glasses nausea and vertigo, along with the baby who pooped his pants five minutes into it and never got tended to. cameron ate a whole bag of "emma-ems", decided to kick it in my lap half way through, and shot me constant "AH! I LOVE YOU! HOLD ME!" yelps when the bad guys would appear. days like today are irreplaceable. i'll always remember this sticky, somewhat scary day as a great one. i'll remember the little tugs at my dress and a hand buried in mine. i will also remember to cuss like hell next time to get my point across when someone makes a crash landing on my dash.

this blog has sort of devolved into an lazy instagram feed, week stints of see-you-never feelings towards the internet, and some whines. i've made feeble attempts to try and correct it. woops and stuff.

this week has been mostly a blur of intensive board exam prep back in the classroom. whoever was in charge of letting us graduate, giving us a taste of sweet deliverance with a week off, and then placing us back into a stuffy room of unfiltered estrogen, body odor, and multiple choice questions is a sadistic GOON. additionally, like most unfavorable events, the whole process can be summed up with an e-card.

i was going to say something to the effect of "F THIS FIELD I DONT GIVE THE LOOSEST OF S****," as i continued with the soul destroying review books.. but then my boss & nurse educator on the oncology floor asked to meet up today. i figured we'd talk about scheduling, things i needed to invest in, references of which clinical journals to subscribe to, etc. nope. they asked me to come in to pick up a gift bag of cute ID reels, books about navigating the first year nursing, and a gift card to au bon pan for "the days you're running behind". they welcomed me with hugs and a exclamatory "welcome home". they let me pop in to see a couple patients i really missed.

so all this test taking murkiness? this pressing private on spotify so i can listen to avril lavigne 'complicated' with a arrant stinkface? that's getting packed in. today i was reminded that i have a world of motivation lying on that delightful second floor.. and it's all going to be worth it.

just over a week ago, i heard the variety of news that gives you the kind of lump in your throat that you can't quite choke down. a solemn sadness: one that is silent and festering. i was dumbfounded that i didn't cry when i heard the news. i am the turkey who will cry the length of an undercover boss episode, so why not now? i clutched my hands, i think.. rustled with my knuckles as i felt my mind scrambling to make sense of why such a vibrant person would want to take her own life. some parts of me understood her hand of misfortunes, a bigger part of me hated myself for losing touch. this is selfish, but it's the truth.

when i walked into the funeral parlor tonight i felt that inevitable crumbling. all the stifled tearfuls came down like cloudburst. the reality overtook the shock, seeing brittany dressed in her bolton high school basketball uniform, her favorite songs streaming straight from her laptop computer, and a family i once knew as hardened now merely shattered.. each trying to pick the sum of all their parts up for the next person's hug.

i don't think this day will ever make sense to me. it shouldn't. what does seem much clearer now is that people touch us in ways we often don't appreciate enough in the present. time and again, i feel its enormity when tragedy slaps me dead in the face. a lesson hard learned. i wish i could have offered an extra "thank you for being my friend" on that teenaged day when we ate those sickening purple popsicles while laughing on the kitchen counter when i almost forgot what laughter felt like. or the sleepovers when we were all so awkward and trying to figure out who we were beyond the green nailpolish, bad dye-jobs, and Good Charlotte level eyeliner. i wonder what would have happened if she heard some long overdue form of, "i'm thinking of you". perhaps it's dumb to run around the circles of what-ifs, but the lesson i'm learning in this slippery, elusive thing called 'life' is that you stay present and tell people what they mean to you not a second too late. constant reminders. don't fall off the boat. if someone means something to you, no matter how different your paths, don't you dare go another day without telling them they matter.

rest peacefully, you smiley old friend. you mattered to me. so very much.

i've never been so scared to go into a night shift.

many co-workers are already dropping bombs on social media about how it was the most batshit day in the uni - some techs having had 26+ patients, another who shook her 12 inch subway sandwich at an employee for not relieving her after 10 hours on a 1:1, a man who said he was having a heart attack but that an enema would fix everything, bedpan poop being splashed on someone from the toilet hose, and i got a morning text from staffing saying something to the effect of "SOS: MAJOR CRATERS IN STAFFING TODAY (wonder why), PLEASE HELP OR WE'RE GONNA DISOWN YOUR ASS. so can we please just call a mulligan on today and start over? an american idol style save? no?

sneaking an entire bag of ruffles and onion dip into my longchamp and no one shall pass the judgement.

apparently my first day back to trail running means a pace of 7:58/mi does not exclude me from being passed by an oldster wearing velcro sneakers and cargo pants with the pockets filled to a maximum capacity.

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okay, so here's the thing..